Synopsis
So Many Ways to Lose: The Amazin’ True Story of the New York Mets—the Best Worst Team in Sports by Devin Gordon is a vibrant, heartfelt, and often hilarious exploration of the New York Mets, a baseball franchise celebrated and cursed for its unpredictable swings between triumph and catastrophe. Written by Gordon, a lifelong Mets fan and veteran journalist with contributions to outlets like The Atlantic and The New York Times Magazine, the book is both a love letter to the team and a clear-eyed dissection of its knack for spectacular failure. Gordon argues that the Mets are not just bad at times but are uniquely gifted at losing, a distinction he deems central to their identity as “the best worst team in sports.” This narrative, infused with humor, longing, and a touch of snark, traces the Mets’ history from their inception in 1962 to the present, capturing the essence of a team that embodies the chaotic, emotional rollercoaster of fandom in a city as vast and intense as New York.
The book begins by situating the Mets’ origin in the wake of New York’s loss of the Brooklyn Dodgers and New York Giants to the West Coast in 1957, leaving the National League without a presence in the city and fans unwilling to embrace the rival Yankees. Born out of necessity, the Mets entered the scene with low expectations, scraping together a roster from slim pickings alongside the Houston Astros. Gordon vividly recounts their early years, notably their inaugural 1962 season, where they lost a staggering 120 games, setting a tone of futility that would define much of their legacy. Yet, within a decade, the “Miracle Mets” of 1969 stunned the sports world by winning the World Series, a feat that cemented their reputation for defying logic—both in failure and triumph. Gordon highlights this duality, noting how the Mets can lose when they should win and win when they should lose, often in ways that are as absurd as they are unforgettable, like losing All-Star Yoenis Céspedes to a wild boar attack or blowing a six-run lead in the ninth inning during a critical pennant race.
Gordon’s narrative thrives on these “Metsy” moments, weaving together tales of the team’s most infamous missteps with its fleeting moments of glory. He recounts the 1986 World Series victory, driven by a raucous roster including Darryl Strawberry and Doc Gooden, but doesn’t shy away from the team’s subsequent unraveling due to bad trades, injuries, and front-office blunders. The book delves into the 1990s, an era epitomized by The Worst Team Money Could Buy (a nod to Bob Klapisch and John Harper’s book), where the 1992 Mets, despite having the highest payroll in baseball, collapsed under the weight of egos, partying, and poor management. Gordon also explores more recent debacles, like the 2017 season, where a manager was fired before coaching a game, and the team’s knack for bizarre injuries persists, as seen in the annual spring training MRI ritual. Yet, he balances these lows with the Mets’ improbable postseason runs, like the 2006 team, which he argues was their most talented despite not winning it all, and the 2015 pennant, which showcased their ability to inspire hope against all odds.
Beyond the on-field antics, Gordon delves into the emotional core of Mets fandom, capturing the “Sisyphean plight” of supporters who return each spring with bottomless optimism, only to be met with heartbreak or, occasionally, miracles. He reflects on the team’s cultural significance, from its roots in the working-class ethos of Queens to its rivalry with the polished, corporate Yankees, a dynamic that shapes the choice every New York kid faces: Mets or Yankees? Gordon’s prose, praised by figures like Ron Darling and Wright Thompson, is both sharp and empathetic, blending journalistic rigor with the passion of a fan who’s laughed, cried, and sat in stunned silence through decades of Mets chaos. He addresses darker aspects too, such as the racism faced by players of color and the struggles of figures like Mackey Sasser, whose career was derailed by a heartbreaking case of the yips. While some readers note the omission of Johan Santana’s 2012 no-hitter, the book’s strength lies in its selective focus on key eras—the 1960s, mid-1970s, 1980s, and 1990s—rather than a comprehensive history, making it a poignant, entertaining chronicle of a team that loses with unparalleled creativity but remains beloved for its soulful authenticity.